


with just a pinch of trauma

by LossOfWords



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Disassociation, F/M, Kinda, Trauma, i dont feel like putting many tags, lup angst, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LossOfWords/pseuds/LossOfWords
Summary: hi this is a mess and it kinda turned into me venting my disassociation sowwy uwui forgot that i said fuck like once in here so i had to change the tags to teen audience





	with just a pinch of trauma

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is a mess and it kinda turned into me venting my disassociation sowwy uwu
> 
>  
> 
> i forgot that i said fuck like once in here so i had to change the tags to teen audience

Negative emotions weren't something that Lup knew how to deal with. 

 

The feeling of fear she had when she was young and Taako would make up exaggerated stories about monsters and ghosts.

 

The paralyzing shock when she saw her home get devoured by this indistinguishable black mass, every memory she had ever made sucked in with it.

 

The cold sensation that sank into her shoulder blades when she realized that her brother couldn’t hear her from where she sobbed inside of her own useless creation, a dark prison that chipped away at her sense of identity more and more by the second. 

 

It wasn’t fair of her to feel so strongly. Her friends, her family had been through as much as her and yet they didn’t seem to react the same. 

 

It it wasn’t fair, so she did her best to keep it quiet.

 

She waited to sob until Barry was away, and even then she didn’t allow herself to fully unravel.

 

When awoken in the night by another terrifying dream, she contained any traces of hyperventilation in her chest, even as the darkness threatened to swallow her again.

 

It was easier that way.

 

~~

 

 

 

Some nights Barry would go out to spend time with Magnus, or Davenport, or really whoever was available. Lup sometimes opted out, saying that Barry should get some alone time with them every now and then.

 

On this particular night he went out with Lucretia and Magnus, the three of them were always very fond of animals and liked to visit shelters.

 

Lup waved Barry off at the door of their shared studio apartment, closing it once he was out of sight.

 

She stood still for a moment, before turning around, her feet patterning against wooden floors until she reached the bathroom.

 

Her finger switched on a light. The sight in the mirror made her frown. This version of Lup looked too tired for her own taste, her eyes being discolored underneath with lines adorning them, downcast ears and furrowed brows.

 

Her hair had grown. When she first left her home, it had been an undercut. Over the course of a hundred years she desired to grow it out, but to her frustration the end of each cycle left it at its initial length. 

 

At this point it fell onto her shoulders sloppily. She pulled it up into a messy ponytail before placing her hands on the counter and leaning forward until her nose was nearly flush with the mirror.

 

Her nose was tinged with pink, pores littering her skin.

 

That was Lup. She was a looking at Lup, she was there, and real.

 

But it didn't quite look like Lup, and she couldn't explain why.

 

She lifted one of her hands to pinch her arm, and sure enough she felt it. 

 

Her hand returned to where it was before. 

 

She hated how petrified she felt at the moment, now that she was allowing herself to check, to make sure she was there again.

 

Were her senses dulled by the suffocating fabric of an umbrella? Could her voice be heard clearly? Did she look real, or skeletal, and was what she felt monitored by the sensation of being undead?

 

The more she thought of it, the harder it seemed to breathe, the air becoming less clear, the breaths through her nose becoming not enough and forcing her to pant through her mouth.

 

Her knuckles turned white on the counter.

 

She spent so long not even knowing how to breathe in that space, without sight, without anything. 

 

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It caused her to grimace. 

 

It was pathetic, she knew this much, the panic that was now swirling rapidly about in her mind as she foolishly allowed herself to recount to years she spent hollow and alone.

 

Looking at herself heightened this panic, so she sat on the floor, back pressed against the counter, attempting to breathe in and contain her sobs.

 

It was so cold on the floor, and her ears felt clogged, or perhaps they were ringing. She covered them, unable to deal with the sound or lack there of.

 

So when footsteps pattered into the room curiously, she didn’t hear it, sobs wracking her body and bile threatening to tip out of her throat.

 

When her lover peeked around the corner, halfway through explaining that Magnus couldn't make it and opted for a raincheck, Lup was far too absorbed in this newfound floating sinking sensation to acknowledge him. She felt so far from her body, but too present at the same time. The feeling of being alive was distant, but the pains that were ripping through her ribcage weren't.

 

Barry sat down in front of her, attempting to give soothing words, to coax her to respond, and why did he have to come home at this  _exact_ moment?

 

Lup's eyes shot around, from here, to there, anywhere, trying to process something that looked real, but it was so bright, as though she had just switched on a light after being in the dark and needed her eyes to adjust. But they never adjusted, and she felt herself float more and more, until she began to scratch her arms, her legs,  _something_ to try and make her feel like she was there in her body. Barry stilled her hands from scratching herself, and she realized that she had broken the skin.

 

She was well aware of his voice, asking her to breathe with him, to count, to try and draw her away from focusing on this fear.

 

So she did, she breathed, again and again, until the fear of not being able to feel wasn't so overwhelming.

 

At this point she wasn't crying, but her breath still hitched and shook her body. It was embarrassing.

 

She took a shaky hand and grabbed Barry's, running it along the pads of his fingertips, his palms, focusing on the feeling of him in lieu of practically every other aspect of her disassociated state.

 

She should say something to him. A witty comment, to assure him that she's fine, or really anything to convey that message.

 

Her mouth opened, and then shut it, no words forming. Barry watched her rub his hand for a few moment before grabbing hers gently and moving to stand.

 

"We should get off the floor," his gruff voice hit her ears a bit strangely, ringing like she was in a cathedral, but she nodded anyway. Complacently. It was so out of character, the way her shuddering frame carefully stood. Lup wasn't careful, she didn't need someone to help her shaky body up from the ground.

 

Quietly, Barry led her to their bed, and she laid down, staring at the ceiling. It was an unsatisfying shade of white. Turning her head, she saw her husband crouched at the side of the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

 

For a few seconds they just looked at each other, and then Barry sighed.

 

"Hey," he said.

 

"Hey." Lup's voice sounded hoarse.

 

"Do you wanna talk?" Discomfort snuck into her bones, an uncomfortable twinge in her body like she had slept on her neck wrong.

 

"Not really." After a brief moment of being afraid that Barry thought she didn't trust him, she added "Later though."

 

"Ok," Barry murmured, grabbing one of Lup's hands that hung off of the edge of the bed and kissing her knuckles. "Do you need anything? Water?" 

 

"No, just uh, lay down with me?" 

 

Humming affirmatively, Barry released her hand to climb into the bed next to her. Lup moved closer to him, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. His fingers played with her ponytail.

 

She wanted to close her eyes and open them again and none of this had happened. She didn't want to deal with the inevitable fact that she was going to have to explain her little breakdown to Barry, who lovingly kissed her temples and rubbed her back. How could she explain, in words that didn't make it sound like she was going mad?  _"Hey babe, funny thing, I don't feel like I'm alive and also I don't look like myself at all, and I'm kinda scared of umbrellas."_

 

She wouldn't worry about that at the moment. Finding the words to talk to him about whatever the fuck was wrong with her could wait until, the morning, or never, who knows. For now she just wanted to be ok, lying in his arms, grounded by his pulse drumming by her ear.

 

Her eyes closed and her breathing became more and more even. His fingers rubbing her scalp became a distant sensation, until it wasn't one anymore, and she was asleep, tears dried in streaks on her face.

 

She would explain to him later, tell him that she was ok. But at the moment she would sleep, and pretend that it didn't matter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
